Black and Blue
by Alipeeps
Summary: A random Shep whump short story. A stick fight with Teyla leads to painful consequences for Sheppard. NOW COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

_An utterly random whumpy drabble that I started writing because I was bored. I have been hassled and poked into continuing this so there will be a concluding chapter to follow :)_

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_Teyla pirouetted with a natural grace that he simply couldn't match, couldn't keep up with, and her stick slipped past his guard and met his flesh with a resounding thwack. The impact surprised him, sharp, unexpected pain stabbing through his side, and he couldn't hold back a pained grunt as his legs wobbled and he hit the ground, hard, the air rushing from his lungs in an involuntary "oof" as he sprawled on his back on the gym floor. For a moment he struggled to pull in air and dark spots danced across his vision. 

"Colonel? Are you okay?" Concern tightened Teyla's usually smooth, calm voice.

He sucked in air and grimaced as pain flared again in his side, hot and angry.

"I'm good," he managed. "Just a little winded."

His view of the ceiling was blocked by Teyla's concerned face, her loose hair swinging forward as she leaned over him, peering down at him dubiously. "My apologies, Colonel. I did not think that my blow landed that hard.."

"No, no. It's fine. Just… just took me by surprise." His was surprised to find his voice a little shaky and Teyla's expression hardened into suspicion.

"Colonel.."

"I'm fine. Just gimme a minute…" He took a deep breath, gritting his teeth against the stab of pain that caused, and got his hands under him, pushing upwards to a sitting position. He got about half way before a sharp pain spasmed his muscles, making him cringe over to favour his injured side, his arms giving and landing him back on the floor with a cry of pain.

"John!" Teyla was worried now, dropping to crouch on the floor beside him, her sticks clattering forgotten to the floor.

He struggled for breath, pain flaring and throbbing in his side, his body tensed and curled against the pain. He breathed a shaky curse as the pain slowly settled.

Teyla was hovering over him, a frown on her face, and her voice was stern as she scolded him, "This is not just "winded", John. You are injured?"

He grimaced, feeling ridiculously helpless laid out on the gym floor. "I dunno. It was fine before…"

Teyla's expression was rapidly evolving into the familiar look of frustration that he usually saw on Carson's face. Her tone was brisk, no nonsense, her gaze running over his body, taking in his tense posture, assessing his condition with a practised eye. "What was fine before? Your side?"

She read the answer in his eyes and, before he could protest, was pushing up his ubiquitous black t-shirt, a hand on his chest holding him in place as she pulled the fabric aside. He saw the expression of surprise cross her face as she exposed the ugly purpling bruise spread across his ribs. He couldn't help a wince of pain as she ran a probing hand across the tender flesh.

"The bruising is deep. How long have you had this?"

"Unnnh. A few days." He shifted uncomfortably as she continued to examine the injury. "It really didn't seem that bad…"

She looked up in surprise, cutting off his excuse. "A few days? Since PH5-A4G?"

He tried for a careless grin, pain shortening his breath. "Yeah. That little tumble we took?" It had been a stupid mistake; an unlucky step by Rodney onto uneven ground, gravel slipping and giving way under his boot. Sheppard had reacted instinctively, reaching out the grab the falling scientist, but they'd been on a steep slope and McKay's momentum had pulled Sheppard along with him, his balance failing him as McKay had slid down the slope, tumbling Sheppard from his feet and slamming him into the ground. He'd managed to keep hold of McKay's tac vest and wrap his other arm around a passing bush and had abruptly halted their slide. He'd felt a bit bruised and achy as Ronon and Teyla had helped them clamber back up to solid ground but nothing worth bothering about. The lingering tenderness hadn't bothered him and it was only two days later that he'd caught sight of himself in the bathroom mirror and been surprised to find the darkening bruise.

Teyla frowned as she pulled his t-shirt back into place. "You should have said something, John." Her tone of voice was as stern as her expression and she held his gaze pointedly as she lectured him. "I would not have agreed to train with you, had you told me you were injured."

"I wasn't! I…" He faltered as she gave him an exasperated look.

"Really, Teyla," he tried again, "it didn't feel that bad.."

She shook her head, "Nonetheless.."

She rose fluidly to her feet, leaving him sprawled on the floor as she strode to her kit bag and rummaged for a radio. Guessing what was coming, John gritted his teeth and, with a muffled groan, rolled himself over onto his left side.

"Carson? This is Teyla.."

Panting for breath as pain spiked across his ribcage, John planted his hands on the gym floor and, on shaky arms, pushed himself up onto his hands and knees. He couldn't help a low moan of pain as his ribs throbbed and protested the movement.

"John? What are you doing!"

He couldn't answer, letting his head hang for a moment as his limbs trembled under him, breathing in short, shallow pants. There was a rustle of fabric and Teyla was kneeling next to him, her hand on his back, her touch warm through the fabric of his t-shirt.

"John, let me get Carson to help you.."

"No," he gritted out painfully. "I'm good. Just help me up.."

"You are in pain.."

He shook his head stubbornly. "Carson'll just fuss and send a gurney. I can walk."

"Teyla? This is Carson. Did you want me for something, love?"

Teyla hesitated for a moment and John lifted his head to meet her worried gaze, his expression pleading. She frowned, her reluctance evident, but with a sigh, she slipped her shoulder under his, a hiss of pain escaping him as she slung his arm across her shoulders.

She rose slowly, smoothly, bearing his weight as he shakily got his legs under him. She waited until he was steady, his teeth gritted against the pain, sweat beading on his brow, before leading him a hesitant step forward. The movement pulled at his tender flesh and he breathed slowly and steadily, pushing through the pain. One more step. And another. He could do this.

"Teyla?"

"Carson. I am bringing Colonel Sheppard to the infirmary."

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_TBC..._


	2. Chapter 2

_I was poked and prodded into adding an infirmary scene to this drabble so here it is. Apologies for any gaps in the medicine - there's a limit to what online research can do.. however, I speak from personal experience on this one - getting hit again on a healing bruise can be heck of a painful and makes the bruise come back darker, and more tender, than ever! Poor Sheppy... grin_

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Sheppard's side was on fire by the time he staggered through the door to the infirmary, his left arm slung across Teyla's shoulders, doing his best not to lean too heavily on the slight Athosian. Every step jarred through him in a wash of pain and he was breathing heavily through gritted teeth as Carson rushed up to them, his face creased in disbelief. 

"Good god, Colonel, what on earth happened? Teyla, I thought you said the Colonel injured himself sparring?"

Teyla's voice was taut with frustration as she guided Sheppard towards the nearest exam bed. "He insisted on me bringing him to the infirmary, Dr Beckett. He was adamant that he could walk."

Sheppard was in too much pain to care much about the growing disapproval on Carson's face. He knew he was in for a lecture and a half about his foolishness on insisting on walking to the infirmary but a little pain and a telling off was still a lot better than the indignity of being wheeled through the city on a gurney with everyone gawking. He sighed, his breath hitching painfully. He felt foolish enough already; all this because of a dumb bruise.

Carson's hands were gentle as he steadied Sheppard, allowing Teyla to slip out from under his arm, but John couldn't help a grunt of pain as his weight was transferred from one grip to another.

Teyla was already filling Carson in on the details as the doctor carefully turned Sheppard around until he found himself leaning, tense and rigid, against the exam bed. "He has a bruise to the right side of his torso, it looks very deep." Teyla's face showed her concern, regret heavy in her voice as she explained, "We were sparring and my attack was unlucky enough to land on that same area."

At Carson's sharp look, Teyla's mouth twisted in resignation, "He did not mention that he had any injury when we began sparring," she mentioned pointedly.

Carson let out a put-upon sigh that had Sheppard cringing in anticipation of a thorough telling off. "It didn't hurt before…" he muttered, a little defensively.

"Okay, son," Carson's voice was resigned but firm, his attitude all-business, focusing entirely on his patient. "Can you hop up onto the bed for me?"

Sheppard was holding himself gingerly, trying to avoid any movement that pulled at his side and aggravated the throbbing pain across his ribs; unfortunately, just about any movement at all fell under that category. He moved carefully, wincing a little as he planted his hands on the firm mattress behind him. Carson was hovering, watching John's stiff, painful movements with concern. Gritting his teeth, Sheppard pushed down against the mattress, trying to lift himself up enough to scoot onto the bed. The motion tensed the muscles around his ribcage and the stab of pain took him by surprise, forcing a sharp cry from him as his arms gave way and his weight dropped back onto his feet, making him stumble.

Carson was there in an instant, catching him before he could fall, holding him steady whilst he regained his balance, tried to catch his breath as the hot throb of pain flared and slowly, too slowly, settled.

"Okay, Colonel. Just stay right there. Let me have a look at this."

Sheppard closed his eyes, focused on trying to slow his breathing from a shallow pant, as he felt Carson lift up his t-shirt. He was vaguely aware of a surprised intake of breath as Carson held the fabric aside and then his attention was taken up by the jolt of pain as fingers gently probed the tender flesh over his ribs. He bit down on a low grunt of pain, the muscles in his neck tensing and straining as he tried to hold himself still, to not flinch away from the painful touch.

Jeez, he couldn't believe a stupid bruise could be so damn painful.

"That's certainly a nasty wee bruise you've got there, Colonel." He felt his t-shirt being dropped back into place and he opened his eyes to find Carson regarding him with a mixture of sympathy and frustration. "How on earth did you manage to do this?"

Teyla interrupted before he could reply, her expression warring between stern and exasperated as she told Carson about John's argument with a gravel slope on PH5-A4G. John grimaced stiffly, feeling oddly like a recalcitrant schoolboy being snitched on to the teacher. Ganging up on him, that's what they were doing…

"You said you slipped and fell on PH5-A4G, Colonel, not that you'd been dragged halfway down a mountainside!" He could see that Carson was working himself up into a righteous indignation that did not bode well for any Lt Colonels in the immediate vicinity.

"That's a bit of an exaggeration, Carson," he grumbled, scowling at an unrepentant Teyla. "You did the post-mission check yourself and I was fine…"

Carson pursed his lips in annoyance, obviously not swayed by Sheppard's excuses.

"You _said_ you were fine, Colonel, and I was foolish enough to believe you! You can't tell me that wasn't bothering you," he gestured at Sheppard's torso. "From the look of it you've bruised the muscle; it must have been painful?"

Sheppard shook his head in resignation. He knew Carson would never believe him but it really hadn't bothered him. He wasn't some kind of masochist; he genuinely hadn't noticed anything other than a slight tenderness which he'd just attributed to general aches and pains from the fall. He'd been surprised to find the bruising that had developed but, as it wasn't really bothering him, he honestly hadn't thought it worth mentioning. A bruise was a bruise, right? It would clear up on its own.

He tried to express these thoughts to Carson but he could see the scepticism in the doctor's gaze. He didn't know where people had gotten this idea that he would deliberately not mention anything when he was in pain. He was in pain right now and he was here in the infirmary, wasn't he? He just didn't see the point it fussing over these things unless he actually needed some treatment. If the pain was bad enough that he needed pain relief then he'd seek it right away. Other than that, he just got on with things and ignored the niggling pain until it went away. He sighed, wincing again as pain spiked sharply. Maybe Carson was right that he had a higher pain threshold than most people; you'd think that Carson would take that into account, if so, and cut him some slack on these misunderstanding but apparently not..

He shifted uncomfortably as Carson continued to lecture him on the importance of keeping his doctor informed of any injuries or illnesses and the dangers of self-diagnosis. He was beginning to stiffen up, his legs muscles starting to protest the strain of the awkward posture he was maintaining in an effort to favour his aching flank. He hissed in a sharp breath as his attempt to get more comfortable resulted in the bruised muscle pulling painfully. Carson's lecture ground to an abrupt halt and he found the doctor regarding him with a kind of helpless resignation.

"Come on, son. I'd like to think you've learnt your lesson from this but somehow I doubt it." He gestured to the exam bed. "Let's get you comfortable."

Sheppard's teeth were starting to hurt from clenching his jaw so hard. Comfortable would be really good right now.

Getting onto the exam bed was an exercise in humiliation. He was too stiff and tender to climb up himself and had to rely on Carson and Teyla to help lift him onto the bed. Even the brief movement required to get him perched on the edge of the mattress had him biting his lip and his breathing was rapid and shallow by the time Carson had raised his arms enough to carefully pull his t-shirt off over his head. He supposed he should be grateful Carson hadn't just cut the damn thing off but it still didn't stop him from feeling ridiculously exposed as Carson firmly yet gently swung his legs up onto the bed, Teyla helping to support his torso as she carefully leaned him back onto the firm mattress.

He breathed out a shaky sigh as he was finally able to relax a little, his head sinking back into the soft pillows. He jerked involuntarily at Carson's light touch as the doctor leaned over to examine the bruising more closely.

"Definitely looks like a deep muscle bruise, Colonel," Carson murmured and John shivered at the brush of Carson's breath across his bare flesh. "I'd say the bruising was pretty deep to begin with and the second blow to the same area has aggravated the swelling and bleeding."

Carson stood up with a sigh, his expression regretful. "I'm afraid it's going to be painful for a good few days at least, Colonel; possibly even weeks. Bruises like this can take a long time to heal. I'm going to start you on anti-inflammatory painkillers and I'd like to get some ice on the area to try and start reducing the immediate swelling."

Sheppard grumbled at the prognosis, feeling frustrated and more than a little foolish at being taken out of action by something as ridiculous as a bruise. "This is all McKay's fault," he whined, just a little pettily.

There was little sympathy in Carson's voice as he carefully drew a syringe of IV painkillers and swabbed Sheppard's arm. "If you hadn't been foolish enough to indulge in stick fighting with a pre-existing injury, you could have avoided all of this trouble. Maybe next time you'll actually listen to medical advice; I don't just dish it out for fun you know."

Sheppard winced a little as the needle pierced the skin in the crook of his elbow. He was uncomfortably aware of Teyla still hovering in the background, her expression as unsympathetic as Carson's. He got the distinct feeling that he could expect a few more bruises adding to his collection once he was fit enough to spar again with Teyla.

The painkillers were pretty fast-acting and within a few moments Sheppard felt the sharp edges of the pain begin to dull and he breathed out a long sigh of relief. He closed his eyes gratefully, feeling his body begin to finally relax, the tension seeping from his muscles as the pain reduced to manageable levels.

He lay still for a while, enjoying the absence of pain, and listened idly to Carson and Teyla talking over him, Carson reassuring the Athosian that John's injuries would mend in time and that her unlucky blow had not done any irreparable damage – and that, if it had, it would have been John's fault and not hers.

He took offence to that, cracking open an eye in time to see Teyla touch her head gratefully to Carson's and, with a last reproving look at Sheppard, leave the infirmary. Oh yeah. He was in so much trouble. His bruises would have bruises next time he sparred with Teyla.

He was left to his own devices while Carson went and rounded up a nurse to begin the fun process of icing his bruised muscles. He was slowly coming to the realisation that he had several hours in the infirmary to look forward to and probably days of stiffness and pain to follow.

He sighed. Who knew that a bruise could cause so much trouble?

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_Fin..._


End file.
